


Bully

by guineagirl5



Category: Smosh
Genre: M/M, RPF, YouTubers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineagirl5/pseuds/guineagirl5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RPF. Anthony is Ian's bully. But that changes when Anthony tells Ian something he hasn't told anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's My Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Because this is compiled from a tumblr rp on my RP blog, it might seem a little choppy in some areas. But please enjoy anyway!

Ian walked quickly down the hallways of the highschool, ducking and bobbing through the crowd carefully. He nervously glanced around before looking at his watch. One more period and he was home free.

Anthony leaned against his locker, watching the other kids rushing through the hall. He spotted the shorter boy with the bowl hair, his favorite victim. “Hey Hecox!” Anthony yelled after him. He quickly caught up with him, grabbing his shoulder. “Where do you think you’re goin?” He asked with a smirk. 

Ian flinched slightly, looking back at him. “To my last class.” He mumbled, trying to back away from Anthony.

"Oh, that’s right. We have English together," He kept his smirk, gripping Ian’s shoulder slightly harder. "I’ll meet you there, buddy boy," He said teasingly, knocking Ian’s things out of his hands. 

Ian waited for him to walk away, and he let out a breath of relief that it wasn’t worse. He leaned down, quickly picking his books back up before heading to English. ‘Calm down Hecox, he’s probably ditching anyway.’ Ian took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Anthony walked into the English classroom, going to his assigned seat. Ian only sat two desks over. He watched the door, waiting for the kid to walk in. Anthony finally saw him walk in slowly, his head down. He kept his gaze on him. 

Ian looked at Anthony’s seat, and he held in a groan as he sat down in his own seat, refusing to look at Anthony. He opened up his novel, reading as he waited for the class to start.

Anthony glanced at the clock, seeing he only had a minute. He decided against messing with Ian now. He would just get caught. The teacher walked in shortly, walking to the front of the class. 

"Alright class, we’re going to start our new partner project today. And no, you don’t pick your own partners." She said, receiving many groans and exasperated sighs. "I know, what a burden. Anyway, you’re going to be researching an author, and creating a presentation. So I’ll go through the list so we can start right away." She looked down at her paper. "Ok, first set of partners, Anthony and Ian. You guys will be researching Roald Dahl." 

Anthony’s head shot up at this news… he was paired with Ian? He looked over to where Ian sat, shock apparent on his face. 

Ian’s pencil fell from his grip as their teacher continued to read through the list, no one aware of his state of shock at the back of the class. His eyes flicked over to Anthony after a minute, who was sitting back in his seat with a wide smirk. Shakily, Ian picked it back up, staring down at his sheet as he listened to she started a new lecture. Blankly, Ian copied notes until the class ended. 

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the day. The best part was it was Friday. Anthony slowly stood up and walked over to Ian, who was frantically packing up his things. “Hey Hecox, how are we gonna work on this project?” He said. “She said we won’t have much time in class so…” Anthony couldn’t hide his satisfaction with the situation. 

"I-I guess we could met at a library?" Ian murmured, looking down at his desk as Anthony walked closer.

Anthony sighed. “Alright… meet me at the library at noon tomorrow.” He smiled deviously. He slapped Ian hard on the back, making him lurch forward. He walked out of the classroom and headed home. 

Ian let out a breath of relief as Anthony left, and he shakily picked up his bag, cursing his bad luck as he started the walk home. 

~Next Day (Saturday)~

Anthony made his way slowly to the library, thinking of ways he could mess with this kid. He couldn’t do much while in the library… it would have to be subtle. He made to the front doors, and he walked inside. Anthony was hit with a wall of cool air. He looked around for Ian, finally seeing him in a secluded area in the non-fiction. 

Ian continued to slowly look through the shelves, completely unaware of Anthony behind him. He looked through the shelves trying to find a book he could use for the project. 

Anthony walked up behind him and poked him in the shoulder. “Hey, fuckwad,” Anthony whispered. He sat down on a nearby chair, propping his feet up on the work table. “Find anything?” 

Ian jumped slightly, turning to look at Anthony. “Y-yeah, I found a couple books.” He whispered, pointing to the stack next to Anthony.

Anthony picked up a book about some famous authors. He nodded. “So what are you gonna make for the presentation?” 

"I was thinking a powerpoint…" Ian slowly sat down next to him, picking up his notebook.

He nodded again. “Well… it actually looks like you've got all of this figured out. I’ll leave your fat ass alone so you can work.” He punched Ian in the arm, standing up to go look at the movies. 

Ian’s head snapped up, and he glared heavily. “You know what you fucking asshole, I’m done. Come here.” He growled, picking up his stuff and dragging Anthony out of the library. “What the fuck is your problem!?” He hissed. 

Anthony’s eyes widened at Ian’s sudden strength. “I don’t…” He breathed shakily. He looked down at Ian’s tight grip on his shirt, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Oh just grow up already. What the hell is your problem with me?! What the fuck did I ever do?" Ian glared up at him.

Anthony turned his head away from Ian, backing up against the building. Ian still had the grip on his shirt, looking for answers. “Let go of me.” He mumbled. He looked down at Ian, seeing he wasn't letting up. “Please.” He added softly. He was sure he didn’t look tough now, his eyes probably conveying fear. He silently scolded himself. 

Ian’s anger was slowly replaced by confusion as he slowly let go of Anthony’s shirt. “A-Anthony?” He murmured. “A-are you alright?” He finally asked, unsure of Anthony’s sudden change.

Anthony looked back at Ian. He nodded slowly. “Yeah… I’m fine.” He muttered, stepping away from the wall slightly. 

Ian’s eyes narrowed again. I don’t believe you.” He said bluntly. “But I know I’m not going to get anything out of you. SO back to my fucking question, what the fuck is your problem with me?”

"If you would stop swearing at me…" His voice grew smaller. "It’s all I know." He muttered. 

"W-what do you mean..?" Ian finally asked.

Anthony rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “I mean… I don’t know how to be nice to people. All I was ever taught was… violence.” He muttered, looking down at his feet. 

Ian’s eyes widened in realization. “O-oh my god.” He whispered. “I-I’m sorry Anthony.” He mumbled.

Anthony laughed sadly. “It’s not your fault, Hecox. Believe me I've tried… I've tried being nice. But I guess I’m just like my goddamn drunken father…” He muttered. He looked anywhere but Ian’s eyes. “Um… I should go.” 

"W-wait." Ian murmured, stopping him. “I’m still mad about all the shit you put me though. I mean, it’s three years worth of crap. B-but you don’t deserve what you’re going through at home. And I’m here for you. You aren't your father." 

Anthony shook his head. “I’m sorry for all that crap. And… I appreciate your concern. But I’m too far gone. I’m a piece of shit Ian. My dad taught me well.” He clenched his fists, backing away from Ian. “I really need to go home. Don’t wanna disappoint the old man.” He started walking away, his head hanging low. 

"A-Anthony." Ian tried once more, gripping the back of his shirt. “You dad may have taught you one thing, but do you wanna know what mine taught me? There’s good in everyone." Ian whispered, his own head looking down at the ground. “And I refuse to believe that yours is too gone to find. I want to help.”

"I don’t want your pity. Yeah, I told you why I beat people, but that doesn’t mean you have to take care of me. Believe me when I say you don’t want to get involved." He growled, looking into Ian’s eyes with his slightly watery ones. He looked down again, taking a deep breath. "I’m sorry… there I go again." He mumbled. 

A sudden smile crossed his face. “I knew it was there.” Was all he said. “You apologized. You wouldn’t do that normally. Ever.” 

"Yeah…" He mumbled. "Probably because you’re the only person who’s bothered to care." Anthony glanced at his watch, cursing under his breath. "I uh… I really have to go now.” He said, running his hand through his hair nervously. 

"A-all right." Ian quickly wrote something down on a sheet of paper before passing it to Anthony. “Here." He mumbled. “I-it’s my phone number. Just in case."

Anthony stared at the number before putting it in his pocket. “Thanks… I’ll uh… see you later.” He mumbled, starting to run back toward his house. 

Ian slowly walked back to his own house, trying to figure out just what he felt towards Anthony Padilla.


	2. Help Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter starts off with some abuse, so please use caution if this bothers you.

Anthony made it to his front door, pausing with his hand on the door knob before slowly turning it. “Dad?” He asked hesitantly. He walked through the kitchen to their small living room, and saw his dad slouched in his chair, a beer in his hand. 

"Where the fuck were you?" His dad slurred. He glared at Anthony with glazed over eyes. 

"I was at the library, working on a project." He mumbled. Anthony started walking towards his room, avoiding his dads gaze. He had almost made it to the hall, but he heard his dad shifting. 

"Don’t walk away with that attitude, you piece of shit." He slurred, taking another swig from his bottle. "Who did you talk to?" 

"Just my project partner…" He mumbled. Anthony crossed his arms in front of him, trying to protect himself.

"Are you trying to run away?" His dad asked angrily. He saw Anthony shaking his head quickly. "Because I promised your mother I would watch over you."

"You’re doing the opposite," Anthony whispered to himself. He immediately regretted saying anything. He saw his dad raise his beer bottle, throwing it hard in his direction. The glass shattered on the wall near Anthony’s head. 

"DON’T GIVE ME THAT FUCKING ATTITUDE!" His dad shouted. 

Anthony ran quickly to his room, shutting and locking the door. His dads shouts continued out in the hall. Anthony felt the tears prick his eyes as he pushed his dresser partway in front of the door. He collapsed on his bed, covering his head with his pillow. He let out choked sobs like he would do most nights anymore. Anthony suddenly remembered the small slip of paper in his pocket, pulling it out along with his phone. He felt bad for calling Ian so soon, but he needed to talk to someone. He quickly dialed the number shakily, putting the phone up to his ear, waiting for Ian to answer. When he did, Anthony paused. “Ian?” He finally whispered. 

 

"A-Anthony?" Ian responded as he walked into his room. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?"

"N-no, I just need to talk," He mumbled, trying to keep in his tears. Anthony could still hear his dad fuming in the hall. He banged on the door a couple of times, making Anthony shake. "I’m sorry for calling so soon I…" He trailed off. 

"It’s fine." Ian murmured as he sat down on his bed. “O-of course we can talk. What’s happening..?"

"My dad threw his bottle at me… I didn’t know what to do, I’m locked in my room," He muttered, a choked sob escaping his throat. He heard two more very loud bangs on his door, before he heard his dad stumble back down the hall. Anthony heard a small gasp on the other side of the phone as the bangs registered. 

"A-Anthony, you have to get out of there! Now." Ian’s thought ran wild. “Anywhere is better for you then there, you Dad is going to seriously hurt you. P-please Anthony. Please try and get out of there."

Anthony looked at his window. “I don’t know Ian… if I leave it will just make things worse.” He mumbled. 

"It’s only going to get worse Anthony if you stay. What if that bottle had hit you? There has to be somewhere else you can go.” Ian pleaded. 

Anthony shook his head before realizing Ian couldn’t see him. “N-no I don’t have anywhere to go…” He whispered. 

Ian took a deep breath, looking out his window. “Come here then. It’s safer than when where you are?”

"Ok…" Anthony muttered. "Where is your house?" He asked, getting up and hastily throwing extra clothes into a small backpack. He had no idea how long he would be gone. 

Ian quickly gave him the address. “Take what you need and can carry. And please stay on the phone until you’re away from there.” He murmured. “I just want to be sure you’re okay.”

"Ok, hold on…" He stuffed his bag full of things he might need. Anthony moved to his window and opened it up, quickly popping out the screen. He threw his bag outside, then climbed through the window with his phone in hand. "Alright, I’m out." He grabbed his bag and started jogging in the direction of Ian’s house. Once he was far enough away, he walked. He wiped at his tear-stained cheeks. "I’ll be there in a few." 

Ian let out a breath of relief, standing up. “I’ll wait on the porch.” He whispered, walking quietly down the stairs. “And I’ll talk to my Mom on the way.” He added.

"Ok… thanks Ian." He muttered. They said goodbye, and Anthony stuffed his phone in his pocket. A few minutes later, he made it to Ian’s street. He saw Ian sitting on the steps in front of his house. Anthony slowed down slightly, suddenly feeling awkward. He walked till he was at the end of the path that lead up to Ian’s steps. 

Ian let a sigh of relief as Anthony came into view. “Hey. Are you alright?” He asked softly, standing up and looking at Anthony.

Anthony shifted on his feet uncomfortably and looked at the sidewalk. “Yeah… some day we’ve had, huh?” 

"Yeah, yeah it was." Ian gave a tired grin. “Come on Anthony, I already talked to my mom." He murmured, walking up to the door.

Anthony wrapped his arms loosely around himself and slowly followed Ian through the door. He stared wide eyed at the homey decor and feel. He was used to dingy and bad smells. “It’s nice,” He whispered, looking around. 

Ian walked beside him, trying not to get too close. “Thanks.” He mumbled. “I like it, I mean- it’s home.” He murmured. “I set up something I figured would work in my room.” He led Anthony upstairs and into his bedroom.

He followed Ian upstairs and walked into his room. “It’s bigger than mine.” He mumbled. 

"It’s my brother’s old room." Ian murmured. “He was a spoiled kid." Ian whispered, sitting down on his bed. 

Anthony looked at the floor where a mattress sat, covered in blankets. “I’m guessing that’s for me?” He motioned to the setup. 

"Yeah, I mean it’s not much but…" Ian trailed off. “I figured it’d be better than where you were coming from."

Anthony felt his lips turn up slightly. “It’s fine…” He set his bag next to the mattress, then sat down on it. He slipped off his shoes and put them next to the bag. He sat for a moment. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and he pulled it out, looking at the screen. It was his dad. He ignored the call and threw it on the far end of the bed. He bit his lip slightly, looking at Ian. “Um…” He muttered. 

"Your dad?" Ian murmured, looking up at him. He bit his lip, looking at the phone. “We’ll deal with it in the morning, you look exhausted right now." Ian finally said. “Get some sleep Anthony."

"Do you think I could get a sandwich?" He asked quietly. Anthony put his hand over his stomach as it growled quietly. "I haven’t eaten much…" 

"Yeah, of course." Ian stood up, leading Anthony downstairs and into the kitchen. “What kind?"

"Whatever you have." He mumbled. Anthony watched as Ian went to the cupboards, grabbing the peanut butter then going to the fridge for the jelly. "I don’t get it." He finally said. 

"Don’t get what?" Ian looked up from the sandwich at him. His hands continued to move, and he glanced down for a second before looking back up at Anthony.

"After everything I did to you… Why are you helping me?" He asked quietly. He saw Ian pause his sandwich making process to look at him. 

Ian sighed, looking down. “In all honesty… I don’t know. Part of me is screaming ‘What the hell are you doing?!’ but there’s another part of me that knows that you don’t deserve the bullcrap you went through.” Ian murmured looking down at his hands. “And that part knows that there’s good in you, and wants to help.”

Anthony nodded and sat silently. He accepted the sandwich that Ian handed him, quickly taking a bite. “Thanks.” He mumbled, smiling slightly. “So… what did you tell your mom?” 

"I told her a friend ran into some trouble a needs a place to crash for a bit." Ian rested back against the counter, looking down at his feet. “I wasn’t sure how much you wanted me to say or not say about the situation." 

"It’s good you didn’t say anything specific… I don’t want my dad to get in trouble." He muttered. Anthony took another bite of his sandwich, letting out a sigh. 

Ian took a deep breath, looking up at Anthony. “A-Anthony, if he’s hurt you shouldn’t you say something?”

"I know I should, but I’m…" He stopped, looking at his plate. "I’m scared he’ll hurt me even more if he knows I told somebody." 

Ian slowly walked over, lying his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “I know you are.” He said gently. “But he’d be locked up for a long time for hurting you like he has. You have to trust me here Anthony, please try talking to someone. He wouldn’t be allowed near you.”

Anthony flinched slightly as he felt Ian’s hand touch his shoulder. He set his sandwich down, suddenly not hungry. “I don’t have anyone to talk to… besides you.” He murmured. Anthony let out a small yawn and wrapped his arms around himself again out of habit. 

"You can talk to me." Ian said softly. “Please consider it Anthony? I’m not going to force you too."

Anthony nodded and stood up. He glanced at Ian then back to the floor. “I uh… I’m gonna go try to sleep some.” He muttered. 

Ian nodded slowly, backing up. “All right.” He mumbled. “I’ll be up in a few minutes, I just wanna clean up here.”

Anthony made his way back upstairs and into Ian’s room. He reached in his bag, grabbing a comfortable shirt and sweatpants he had stuffed in. Anthony pulled his shirt over his head, looking down at his torso. Fading bruises dotted his skin. He heard Ian coming up the stairs, as he tried to put his shirt on quickly. Ian walked in, halting his steps. “I’ll just…” Anthony muttered, slipping the shirt over his head. 

"A-Anthony…" Ian whispered, slowly walking in further. “D-did your Father…" he trailed off, still in slight shock as he stared at Anthony.

Anthony looked away and down at his mattress. “It’s all part of the package.” He murmured, picking up his sweatpants. He shyly changed out of his jeans and into the comfortable pants, laying down on the makeshift bed, and curling up in one of the blankets. 

"A-Anthony." Ian whispered again. “Please, please, please, now more than ever I want you to talk to someone. “I don’t want you to get anymore hurt." He continued to whisper sitting on the edge of his bed.

Anthony sat up quickly and glared at Ian. “You don’t think I’ve tried?!” He nearly shouted. “Ian… no one listens to me.” He mumbled. “Damn it…” Anthony whispered, wiping away an escaped tear. “He’s all I have left of my family… if he leaves, I’ll have nothing.” 

Ian flinched out of habit from Anthony’s raised voice, but he took a deep breath, looking at Anthony again. “A-Anthony, I’m listening. And I still want to help. I know he’s your family, but family isn’t supposed to hurt you like this. You won’t be alone.”

Anthony laid back down and curled up in the blanket, facing away from Ian. He hid his face, his whole body starting to shake with silent sobs. “I know…” Was all he could manage to say.

Ian slowly moved, sitting down next to Anthony’s shaking body. Slowly, he reached out and gently rested his hand on Anthony’s shoulder again. “P-please don’t cry Anthony. It’s going to be okay. I promise you.” Ian whispered. “You’re safe, you’re okay.” Ian murmured, feeling a flash of pain run through him as he watched Anthony’s shaking body.

Anthony relaxed at Ian’s touch and words. He felt strange that it did, but he accepted it. His breaths evened out slightly and he closed his eyes. Anthony wrapped the blanket around himself tighter, feeling more secure.

Ian stayed where he was, lying down next to Anthony as he waited for him to drift to sleep. He closed his eyes, a small breath leaving him. Ian continued to lightly rub Anthony’s shoulder, trying to comfort the still slightly shaking elder.

Anthony finally drifted off, his face still holding traces of tears. 

Ian smiled slightly as Anthony finally drifted off, and he let himself relax slightly for a minute before slowly moving off of the mattress and climbing into his own bed. He curled up under the covers, letting himself fall asleep.


	3. The Need to Tell

Anthony laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The thundering footsteps made their way down the hall and to his room. His father stood in the doorway, staring daggers into Anthony’s eyes. The large man walked quickly to Anthony’s side, raising his large fist. Anthony couldn’t move… his voice wasn’t working. The fist came crashing down onto him, the blackness taking over his vision. 

Anthony shot up, eyes wide and his mouth letting out a shout. He put his head in his hands, feeling sweat dripping from his forehead.

Ian woke up at the sound of Anthony crying out, and he slowly st up in his bed. “Anthony?” He asked tiredly, moving to to the end of the bed to look down at him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes widened slightly at Anthony’s wide eyes shaking figure. Quickly, he went to sit next to him. “Anthony?”

"I’m not safe… he’s everywhere, he’s in my fucking mind." He mumbled. Anthony leaned into Ian slightly as he sat down, trying to hide. 

"Anthony, Anthony I promise you you’re safe." Ian whispered, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Anthony. “You were dreaming okay? You’re still stressed from what happened, but you’re okay now, I promise you. Deep breaths okay? Don’t talk until you can breath."

Anthony took a few deep shaky breaths, letting Ian hold him. “Don’t let him get me…” He whispered. “I need to tell someone…”

"I’m not going to let him get you, okay Anthony? I promise you. We can talk to someone in the morning, okay?" Ian whispered, arms tightening around Anthony slightly.

"Thank you," He mumbled, relaxing in Ian’s arms. Anthony closed his eyes again, his body trembling less.

Ian let out a breath as Anthony relaxed slightly. “Go back to sleep all right? I’ll be in my bed when you wake up.” 

"All right," He whispered. His breathing deepened and he fell asleep quickly. 

Ian smiled slightly, slowly unwrapping his arms from around Anthony, and climbing back into his bed again. He drifted off again, wonder what tomorrow held. 

~Next Morning~

Anthony slowly opened his eyes, confused to see another room other than his own. It only took him a second to remember what happened the day before. He turned over, seeing Ian, his savior, laying in his own bed. Anthony slowly sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Shit…” He whispered, rubbing at his abdomen. The third or fourth day was usually the day bruises hurt the most. 

Ian woke up slowly, sitting up to find Anthony already awake. “Mm, good morning.” Ian whispered. “Sleep alright? I mean, after…” He trailed off, referring to his nightmare.

Anthony nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine,” He mumbled, throwing the blanket off to the side. 

"All right…" Ian mumbled as he sat on the edge of his bed. “Hungry?"

Anthony shrugged. “A little bit,” He said, standing up. “Do you have an ice pack?” He mumbled. 

"Yeah, of course." Ian slowly stood up, walking down the stairs with Anthony. He dug around in the freezer before handing Anthony an ice pack. “There you go." He murmured, passing him a towel to wrap it in.

"Thanks," Anthony put the ice pack on his side, sighing slightly. "What’s for breakfast?"

"No problem." Ian walked over to the cupboards, digging around for a second. “Uh, what are you in the mood for?"

"Cereal I guess," He said, sitting down at the table. 

Ian nodded, pulling out a box of Cheerios. “This work?” He asked, pulling out a bowl for himself and the milk.

Anthony smiled lightly. “Yeah, that’s perfect.” He watched as Ian quickly fixed the two bowls, setting one in front of Anthony. He used his free hand and picked up the spoon, starting to eat right away.

Ian smiled, eating his bowl slowly and silently as he thought. Eventually, he pushed away his finished bowl, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Anthony stacked his bowl on Ian’s once he finished. He pulled the ice pack away from his side and set it on the table. “Sorry about waking you up last night.” He mumbled, looking at Ian’s slightly tired face.

"It’s fine, really. Don’t worry about it." Ian gave a small grin, resting back in his chair. “B-but, are you sure you want to talk to someone today? I don’t want to rush you." Ian murmured. 

"If I don’t do it today… I don’t think I ever will." He mumbled while he ran nervous fingers through his hair. "Can I just tell your mom? Will she know what to do?"

"I don’t know." Ian slowly reached over, resting his hand on Anthony’s shoulder again. “I think it’s best to just go to the police Anthony." He said gently. 

Anthony nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah… I was afraid you’d say that.” He mumbled. “Can you go with me?” 

"Of course." Ian mumbled, looking down at his hands for a second before back up at Anthony. “When do you want to go?"

"It would probably be smart to go before I pussy out," He mumbled. "I honestly can’t believe I’m about to turn in my own father."

"It’s for the best." Ian mumbled. “I don’t want you to get hurt anymore." He stood up, placing the dishes in the sink. “Let’s get changed and we can go when you’re ready." 

"M’kay," Anthony made his way to the stairs, Ian following close behind. He walked straight to his backpack, pulling out his jeans and a balled up t-shirt. Anthony pulled off his sleep shirt, quickly pulling on his other one to spare Ian the sight of his stomach. He changed into his jeans, and finally pulled out his favorite red jacket. 

Ian changed quickly, before turning to face Anthony. He let out a breath, nodding to the door. “You ready?” He asked quietly.

"Yeah," He said quietly. Anthony followed Ian down the stairs and out the door. They started walking in the direction of the police station. He didn’t say anything. All of his thoughts were focused on what would happen. The station came into view a few minutes later. Anthony stopped in his tracks. He started shaking his head. 

Ian turned to look at him, and he rested his hands on Anthony’s shoulders, holding him still. “Anthony, Anthony take a deep breath okay?” He whispered. “Deep breaths okay? This is going to be hard, but you can’t let your father continue what he’s done.”

Anthony reluctantly started walking forward again. He followed Ian’s instructions and breathed deep. They walked into the station, cops and people bustling around. 

"Do you want me to do the talking?" Ian whispered to him, turning to look at him. “Or do you just want me here as support?" 

"Can you talk?" He whispered. "I don’t know if I could manage…"

Ian slowly lead Anthony to a desk, watching him carefully. “Excuse me miss?” He finally said. “I have a case of abuse to report.” Ian let out a breath, giving the cop the details that he knew as Anthony glanced around anxiously.

Eventually, the cop turned to Anthony. “Excuse me young man, but would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” She asked softly.

 

Anthony glanced at Ian, then nodded hesitantly. He followed the lady back to a small room with a table and chairs, Ian following close behind. She gestured for them to sit down, and sat across from them. 

"So… Anthony right?" She asked softly. She continued after he nodded. "Anthony, how long has this been going on?" 

Anthony looked down at his hands. “Um… it started when I was really young. I was about five I think.” He mumbled. “My dad became an alcoholic after my mom passed away.” 

She nodded slowly, writing it down. “Do you remember what he was like before he started drinking? or is it too early for you to remember?” She asked quietly. 

Ian reached over and rested his hand on Anthony’s shoulder again as he shook slightly.

"Um… he seemed ok. I mean, he got angry, but… never like he does now." He mumbled. 

She wrote down his answer quickly, then looked back up at the boys with soft eyes. “Where are you staying now?” 

Anthony looked over at Ian. “With him,” He jerked his head in Ian’s direction. He watched her write down the answer again, going through the same motions.

"How did that come to be?" She asked, looking back into Anthony’s eyes.

"Um… my dad got violent, I locked myself in my room and called Ian… and he begged for me to escape." He mumbled. "I went out my window and over to his house." He finished. 

She nodded slowly, finishing writing things down. “I take it he doesn’t know you’re here?” After a nod from both of them, she continued. “We’re going to help you Anthony, but to do that we need to know where your Dad is? Where’s your house?”

Ian saw Anthony tense slightly, and he glanced over at him and quickly reached out to rest his hand on Anthony’s arm. “It’s okay Anthony.” He whispered. 

Anthony quietly said the address, watching her write it down swiftly. 

"Ok, Anthony. We are going to round up some officers to take care of this ok?" She said reassuringly. "You can go wait back at Ian’s house, and we’ll call you when we have him."

Anthony sat silently, before looking up. “No.” He muttered. That earned glances from the both of them. “I want to go… I need to face him.” He whispered. 

 

"I-I’ll have to talk to my superiors about that." She finally said. “But I’ll see what I can do." She left the two of them there, and Ian looked over at Anthony.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

Anthony nodded, his jaw clenched tightly. “He needs to see what he brought upon himself… the only way to do that is to be there when they get him. He needs to see me…” 

Ian nodded slightly, a soft breath leaving him. “If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

"Ian, I don’t know how he’s going to react. I don’t want you to see that. No one should." He muttered. 

"I don’t care. I’m not letting you face it alone." Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Anthony with determination. 

Anthony stared back, eventually losing his battle. “Fine,” He whispered. He heard the doorknob rattle, and watched the lady walk back in. 

"Alright," She sighed. "You can come. BUT… you have to stay near the cruiser. We don’t want anyone getting hurt if he gets hostile." She mumbled. 

Both of them nodded and stood up, following the officer towards the front doors. The two of them climbed into a cruiser, buckling up. “Ready Anthony?” Ian asked softly.

"No," He whispered. The cruiser started towards Anthony’s old home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly working on putting this all together. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Ohohoho... Yes, I am going to split it up into chapters because I can, and it makes for easier reading. Also, sorry for any typos! It happens during RP's and I'm too lazy to change them :P


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